Reactions and Revelations
by Once Upon A Time
Summary: Kerry tells Sandy about her miscarriage and they cope together. Post Ep 9.11 Complete.
1. Revelations

TITLE: Reactions and Revelations  
RATING: PG (nothing too risqué--for now anyway)  
LAST EPISODE SEEN: "A Little Help from My Friends" 9.11  
TIMELINE: Post-Ep to afore mentioned, so same day.  
ARCHIVE: Go ahead. Make my day. Seriously though, it's all good, just tell me first.  
DISCLAIMER: Kerry, Sandy and Abby belong to Warner Bros (I'll give them back unharmed when I'm finished). No infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for the enjoyment (and closure) of ER fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own pleasure.  
SUMMARY: Kerry's POV; Kerry tells Sandy about her miscarriage, and it just goes from there.  
SPOILERS: Major for 9.11, I guess for early S.9 as well.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Feedback is your friend. Mine too. ;)  
SPANISH TRANSLATION: If you haven't taken Basic Spanish, "¡Ay! ¿Qué haces? " means, in context, "Hey! What are you doing?"  
Chapter 1: Revelations  
  
I sat in the passenger seat of Abby's Corolla and tried not to cry. My hands were clenched in fists, my arms across my lower abdomen, desperately clawing at my sides, hoping it was all a bad dream. However, I knew better. There wasn't a heartbeat. Only 14 weeks after the IVF. That put me at, technically, 14 weeks, though the OB said 16 for my due date. I couldn't even feel my child within me until I began cramping. I had tried to feel around for a lump, anything, to prove to me that my little miracle was in there, alive. Nothing.  
I kept staring out the window, at the unbroken white line next to the curb. I followed it with my eyes, and then suddenly it stopped. I looked over at Abby in the driver's seat. Abby had stopped the car, and was looking down at her lap.  
"Dr. Weaver, would you like me to walk you in?"  
Oh, did I ever wish she would. But she couldn't. Then Sandy would know something was wrong immediately. I had to do this on my own.  
"No, thank you, Abby." I guess she saw the tears building in my eyes, because she handed me a tissue, and replied, softly, "Feel better, Dr. Weaver."   
  
~/.:*:.:*:Flashback:*:.:*:.\~  
  
I had been sitting with my feet up against the wall opposite my back when I felt the worst cramp I had felt all day. It hurt so bad, and it lasted longer than the others too--a few minutes, though it felt like hours, of excruciating pain, more than I had ever felt with my leg. Only he or she was dead.  
I made my way, painfully, into the bathroom, where I sat in the stall, curled up in the corner, avoiding everything. Oh god, it hurt so bad. Then I felt it. Again. That horrible, terrible pain that meant an end. I began to breathe very fast--short, quick breaths had always been the way for me to avoid the pain of cramps. As I exited the stall, Haleh saw my reddened eyelids and pale expression.  
"Dr. Weaver, are you okay?"  
"I'm not sure, Haleh. Probably not." I sounded sick.  
"What's wrong?"  
"I don't want to talk about it," I replied weakly as I left the bathroom and walked across the hallway to the drug lockup, hoping to find something for the pain, something that would let me finish my shift. Suddenly I got another cramp, and assumed my original position on the counter, my back pushed against the wall, my legs bent, and feet pushing against the opposite wall. My lower back hurt like hell.  
My fourth (or was it fifth? I didn't want to count anymore.) pad of the hour was leaking; I could feel the warm wetness against the underside of my lower buttocks, soaking into my panties. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be home, doing this naturally. Nevertheless, Kerry Weaver won't let anyone or anything stop her. Nope, not ever. Not pain, not pregnancy, not that damned crutch, nothing. And certainly not miscarriage. I'll go see my OB tomorrow, I mused to myself. Make sure it's all done and over with.  
  
~/.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.\~  
  
I stood in front of my door, not wanting to go in, wanting for Sandy to savor these moments of impending motherhood a few minutes more. Sighing, I pulled out my key and opened up the only barrier between me and her.  
"Kerry, that you?" I heard from upstairs. Damn. I had completely forgotten that Sandy was home. I had been hoping for a few hours to compose myself, to finish my tears and to figure out how to tell the woman I love that our little miracle was no longer.  
"Down here, love!" I called.  
"Well, then get up here!" I could hear the smile, the laugh in her voice. Oh, Lord, she was going to hate me. My body had killed a child that we had created. How could I tell her now? I wearily set my crutch down next to the front table and limped over to the staircase, grabbing the railing as a cramp hit me. I didn't care how much it hurt; the pain made it more real. I needed to feel the pain, if for no other reason than to know that it was not just some horrible nightmare.  
"What's taking so long?" Sandy called. The playfulness in her voice was evident. "I know you're pregnant, but you're not THAT pregnant yet!" Oh, if only she knew.  
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't rush me." That came out wrong. It sounds snappy. Rude, even. I sounded like I was talking to colleague, a subordinate, and my lover was anything but a subordinate.  
"Either you had a bad day or that's hormones talking. But either way, this will cheer you up." I exhaled and let go of the railing as the cramp passed, limping up the stairs to see what Sandy had planned. As I got to the top of the 4 stairs, Sandy came out, her white shirt covered in pastel green paint, and took my hand. "You gotta see this, but all at once. Close your eyes."   
"Just don't let me bump into anything."  
"Kerry! I wouldn't do that..." She paused. "Not now anyway."  
"Sandy, you're hopeless."  
As she led me along, we came to a door. As she opened it, she announced, "Okay, open your eyes!"  
My eyes fluttered open and before me, I saw the nursery. The walls covered in the same pastel green the covered my love's shirt, the rocking chair with the stuffed white dog on it in the corner, the mobile above where the crib was to go--the crib was coming in next week. The little accent rug in the center of the room in the shape of a big yellow duck. I looked over at Sandy, tears in my eyes, and murmured, "It's beautiful." She was so proud of her work, a huge smile on her face. I couldn't tell her now. Just then a beeper rang out. Both of us looked down.   
"It's me." I saw the pained expression on her face. "And to think we were gonna celebrate too. We can do that when I get back, okay?"   
"Of course, " I heard my voice reply emptily. Sandy went into our room to go get her stuff, as I stood there, still staring at the room that was no longer needed as a nursery.  
  
~/.:*:.:*:.2 hours later.:*:.:*:.\~  
  
I sat in the darkened living room on the couch with my vodka, wondering how to tell Sandy. If it was a fire, she'd be out for at least another hour. I had been practicing.  
"Sandy, I lost the baby." No, too blunt.  
"Sandy, I miscarried this morning." Didn't sound right.  
"Sandy, the baby died." Nah, too morbid. How do you tell the woman you love that the child you planned in love, is no longer?  
"Sandy, I don't think we'll be needing the nursery." That still didn't sound right. I sat there pondering still, as Sandy walked through the door and turned the light on just in time to see me take a sip of my drink.  
"¡Ay! ¿Qué haces? What the hell are you doing? Is that liquor? Kerry!! You can't drink! You're pregnant! You're a doctor--you should know that! And nobody should be drinking alone in the dark anyway." She angrily took the glass out of my hands as I struggled to hold in my tears. This was it. Now or never.  
"What were you thinking?" She asked as she stroked my hair, playing with my ear. "You're pregnant. Our child's well-being depends on how well you take care of yourself. No caffeine and no liquor."  
"That's just it," I sobbed. "I'm not." I could feel the lump in my throat.  
"Not what? Not thinking when you drank that vodka? I wouldn't doubt that," Sandy joked.  
"No, not pregnant." I choked out, tears drowning my last syllables. 


	2. Reactions

TITLE: Reactions and Revelations  
RATING: PG (nothing too risqué--for now anyway)  
LAST EPISODE SEEN: "A Little Help from My Friends" 9.11  
TIMELINE: Post-Ep to afore mentioned, so same day.  
ARCHIVE: Go ahead. Make my day. Seriously though, it's all good, just tell me first.  
DISCLAIMER: Kerry, Sandy and Abby belong to Warner Bros (I'll give them back unharmed when I'm finished). No infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for the enjoyment (and closure) of ER fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own pleasure.  
SUMMARY: Kerry's POV; Kerry tells Sandy about her miscarriage, and it just goes from there.  
SPOILERS: Major for 9.11, I guess for early S.9 as well.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Feedback is your friend. Mine too. ;) Oh, and the information on the appearance of the fetus can be found at www.pregnancy.com  
PREVIOUSLY: Sandy walked in on Kerry drinking and Kerry has just told Sandy about her miscarriage.  
  
Chapter 2: Reactions  
Sandy stayed quiet, her jovial mood suddenly gone. "I didn't know how to tell you," I blurted out, and then I saw the nursery, and all your hard work, and I couldn't bear to tell you that it was all in vain."  
"Ker, slow down. What happened?"  
I collected myself and stayed calm, tear-free for a moment. "I miscarried," I whispered in a barely audible voice.  
Sandy leaned in closer and asked me, panic in her voice, "What happened?"  
I sighed and proceeded. "At work. You know how I was spotting this morning? And how I said is was nothing, just a little bit of break-through bleeding?"  
"Yes, and you said you'd be fine." She looked down at her lap and absently traced small circles with her thumb on her pant leg.  
"Well, the spotting turned into a lot of bleeding..."  
She interrupted, "How much blood?"  
"A lot." She kept looking at me expectantly, silently prodding me to go on. "It went through my pants, and onto my lab coat," Sandy nodded sadly, "And when I realized how much blood, the first thing I did was do an ultrasound on myself, and no matter how many ways I positioned that damned transducer," My voice broke, "I couldn't find a heartbeat." Sandy looked up at me, and I could see the tears in her eyes. We had both lost our little miracle, our child. We embraced each other through blind tears and cried for a long while, then there was just silence.  
"I didn't want to tell you immediately," I said, trying to cut through the sadness and grief in the room. "I didn't want you to hurt like I do right now. I wanted to let your savor those last few happy moments of impending motherhood while you still could."   
Sandy just sat there, eyes still red, and indirectly asked me, "So you kept working. You've 'sucked it up and dealt with it' for the last time. You shouldn't have to feel so much pain. It's not your fault, love."  
"I just keep thinking that maybe if I'd done something differently, if I'd forgone a candy bar for an apple or something like that, that maybe we'd still have him or her. I mean, I know, they all tell me that it's not my fault, there's nothing I could've done, but I just keep second guessing myself."  
The doctor said that after 12 weeks, we were in the clear. As a doctor, I knew that as well. Most spontaneous abortions happen in the first trimester, which I came out of successfully. We'd started picking out names, building the nursery, and doing the things that expectant mothers do. We got excited, caught up in the moment, the feeling of bringing a new life into this world all for us to raise. We both stayed silent as the tension in the room thickened to an unbearable point. I spoke first.  
"Sandy, the doctor saw me in the hospital, and said that I could have the body if I wanted to bury it. I'd really like to do that, you know, lay him or her to rest with God. Would you do that with me?"  
"Of course, love. Anything."  
  
~/.:*:.:*:.3 days later.:*:.:*:.\~  
Local cemetery  
  
I remembered looking at the baby after the fact. Definitely a girl. 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes. Fine, golden hair on her upper body. She was only about eight and one-half inches long and weighed only eight ounces. Almost grotesque to look at, the child almost no fat on her transparent skin, and the skeleton was soft like clay. Sandy couldn't bear to look for more than a minute.  
"We lay this child of God, Cassandra Fiona Lopez-Weaver to rest. May she go with God," spoke the priest who came with Sandy and I to bury our miracle. We had given her our respective middle names: Sandy's, Cassandra, and mine, Fiona. We buried her in an unmarked grave next to my parents' headstone. I know the fact that my child is in Heaven with my parents and God is supposed to comfort me, but it doesn't, because little Cassie never got to experience life on Earth.  
Looking through my closet that morning for something black to wear, I came across the three maternity blouses. Sandy had laughed when only last week my normal shirts became snug around my waist and chest. We bought those shirts together after the first ultrasound had revealed a perfectly healthy baby. I should have gotten rid of those shirts.  
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shalt not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever."  
Sandy squeezed my gloved hand tightly as the priest finished reading Psalm 23. He came over and hugged each of us, saying how sorry he was for our loss. If only he knew.  
THE END  
  
Please be gentle, since this is my first fic. And yes, I know it is short, I do not need to be told.  
This can also be seen on alt.tv.er.creative for those of you who care. 


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